Marry Me
by Cryssallis
Summary: "She wants to get married, but she don't wanna marry me." A Dramione inspired by Marry Me by Thomas Rhett.


He knew this day was inevitable. She wanted a happy family, she deserved it. And he could never give her that. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt to see her getting that from someone else. Especially _him_. Draco knew he didn't deserve the love of Hermione, but neither did Ron. Yet that's who was standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for her. While Draco stood far in the back, out of the vision of the other visitors. He didn't want to be there, and no one else wanted him there, but he couldn't tell her no, not when she personally delivered the invitation. That's why he was stood in the Weasley's back garden, dressed in the muggle suit she always told him made him look "sharp".

* * *

Draco and Hermione had formed a tentative friendship after the war ended, much to the dismay of her two best friends. They had both volunteered to help when it came time to repair Hogwarts. They ended up working together, being the only two willing to take on the boring task of reorganizing the library shelves. They fell into easy conversation, mostly centered around the books they were working on but eventually branching out to wider topics. He was surprised to find they had a lot more in common than he would have ever guessed, seeing how they came from two very different worlds. Yet she understood him more than any of his other "friends" ever did. He didn't understand why she didn't demand someone else work with her and he especially didn't understand why she had started talking to her. He didn't deserve her forgiveness or kindness. But he would be an idiot to push it away.

Hermione was the only reason he left his flat in the year following the war. He would have been content hiding out, being as invisible to the world has everyone wished he was. But Hermione was stubborn and wouldn't let that happen, saying he couldn't let himself wither away in "that lonely flat". She often dragged him out of his front door, taking him when she had to run errands or even occasionally when she met with her friends for lunch. Despite the dirty looks, the nasty Daily Prophet articles, and even the warnings given to her by her friends, she never stopped treating him as a friend.

When the ministry sent out the invites to a ball meant to celebrate the anniversary of the wars end he immediately went to throw it into the fire. They likely only sent it to be polite, but despite being pardoned of all his crimes the public still labelled him a death eater and didn't want him around. But then she stepped through his Floo, insisting they go out to buy something to wear. And he never could tell her no. So, he ended up with a muggle suit, which she claimed would look so much nicer than dress robes and just like that he was stuck going to the ball.

He had been right about how people would react to his presence. He could hear people mumbling about him, none of it positive. He had only been there for five minutes, but he was ready to just leave.

` "Why did I even agree to this again? I knew I should have…" his angry mumbling to his self stopped when he saw the reason he was here. How did he never realize how pretty she was? She wasn't dressed up quite as fancy as everyone else. She just had a simple blue dress, which he noticed was the exact color of the tie she had made him buy, and although it wasn't the exquisite ball gown style most witches had chosen for the event she was the most beautiful girl in the room. When she saw him in the corner the most radiant smile graced her face and she walked straight to him.

"You actually came. I didn't think you would actually come."

"I told you I would." Was all he managed to get out, suddenly nervous. This was a foreign feeling, he was a Malfoy after all and Malfoy men didn't get "nervous" especially about girls. When he finally composed himself, he offered his hand to her

"Care to dance?" Her hand was soft in his and felt like it fit perfectly. The smile never left her face, even when the women around them started not-so-quietly gossiping about the "Golden Girl" dancing with a Death Eater. Did she like him as much as he was starting to like her? Was that why she was putting in all this effort? If he leaned down to kiss her now would she slap him? Before he could even consider acting on that last thought, Weasley's voice shouted her name from across the room.

"Sorry Draco I should probably go say hi. I'll see you later?" And before he could even reply his arms were empty and she was heading across the room to join her best friends. When he saw the red-head greet her with a kiss he turned and stormed off to the floo, not seeing any reason to be there anymore.

He did a good job of avoiding her after that, suddenly having his days filled with family business. Her letters never received replies and he locked his floo so she could no longer come over uninvited. He knew it was a childish reaction, but he couldn't stand feeling like he was second best to Weasley. He had just realized he felt more than friendship for her, but it apparently wasn't reciprocated. She never seemed to give up on him though and once a week the stack of letters on his table would grow by one.

"Draco? I know you're home can I come through please?" The familiar voice accompanied a knock on the front door of his flat and despite his earlier resolve to ignore her, he went and opened the door. "I wasn't sure if you were getting my letters, so I thought it would be better to deliver this personally."

He was preparing an apology in his head when she held out the paper to him. It was a wedding invite. Her wedding.

"It would mean a lot to me if you came. I know you've been busy and you don't like public events, but it will be a small event." And he never could tell her no.

* * *

And that's how he found himself standing in the Weasley's back garden, wearing that uncomfortable muggle suit she seemed to like. A part of him wanted to find her and tell her how he felt, try to convince her to give him a chance and see if they could be happy. But she didn't deserve that. She deserved to have a perfect wedding that wouldn't be frowned upon by her friends. She deserved the best and he could never give her that. So, he just sipped his Fire whiskey and tried not to look like his heart was breaking. That was the best he could give her.

* * *

A/N I saw someone mention how this song reminded them of Dramione and now I can't listen to the song without thinking of the pairing. So this is my attempt to get the story out of my head. Its currently 1:30 am when I finished this story so I'll probably come back later and actually proof-read it. But I havent written in so long I just wanted to finish this and get it up.


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